The Unauthorized Biography of Jonathan Sheppard
by AndromedaMarine
Summary: I’ve known John Sheppard for over sixty years. Now, looking back on all that time, I can’t say I’ve ever really understood him. But that’s exactly what made him unique. Story told from Rodney McKay's pov. Completed as of chapter six.
1. Beginning the Story

**The Unauthorized Biography of Jonathan Sheppard by AndromedaMarine**

**Author's Note: References to "Heartbeat" are intended as this is a story from Rodney's perspective. Also, most chapter title names are also used as story title names in the Generation Series.**

_Chapter One: Beginning the Story_

I've known John Sheppard for over sixty years. Now, looking back on all that time, I can't say I've ever really understood him. But that's exactly what made him unique. If there's one person on this Earth – or perhaps in Pegasus, on one of the many worlds there – who really understood him it would be his wife, Elizabeth. I was his friend, and maybe he would call me his brother. Sixty years of friendship that started on a lonely, icy continent at the southern pole of Earth: Antarctica.

A major at the time, John Sheppard loved flying. His only dislike about his station was the cold. But solitude, helicopters and open land was all he really needed. He couldn't find that anywhere else in the world. I met John when he flew General Jack O'Neill out from McMurdo Base. At the time he knew nothing about what my work even pertained to – he was just a curious pilot whose passenger told him not to touch anything. Yet touch he did. I still remember Jack's expression when he saw John sitting in that glowing, blue chair.

"I thought I told you not to touch anything," Jack had said, glowering at the young pilot.

"I didn't," John returned, his eyes still wide with fright as the chair glowed around him. "I – I just sat down."

It was the first time I had ever seen him – but it was clear he was meant to sit in that chair, of all things. It was clear that he would join our journey to another galaxy. For a moment I stared at him, wondering what he could do. His was the strongest gene I'd ever come across, and it was important that I know how much he could control. God knows Beckett was a failure; that man could never keep his cool when sitting in that weapon. "Major, think about where we are in the solar system," I tried out for size, wondering what would happen.

Suddenly it was like I was standing below the solar system looking upwards, into the rotation of the nine planets. I knew I couldn't keep my jaw off the floor, and I was pretty sure that after the display Elizabeth would beg the general to let him go with us. "Did I do that?" he asked, and I wanted to laugh, to tell him that yes, he did, but I couldn't. I could just stare.

It took a few moments for Dr. Jackson to come to his senses. "Dear God," he breathed, smiling up at the hologram. Just moments before he had revealed to us that he had discovered the address to Pegasus, the one thing for which he'd been searching for years. He smiled, knowing that his dream had finally come true. Little did he know that it would take him four tries to get there.

I watched him leave, wondering what his answer to Elizabeth's question would be. We certainly wanted him on the expedition, but the need outweighed the want. I certainly couldn't continue forcing Carson into the chair, not after seeing the display that hovered over our heads when John sat there. I saw him two weeks later, wandering the halls of the SGC. I smiled, glad that he had accepted our offer to go to another galaxy.

For John, Antarctica had been the absolute beginning of his life. He'd lost his life at least three times, but for some reason nobody would let him move on – he was always saved. If he were any other guy in any other situation my first words to him would have sounded idiotic. But whether we liked it or not we were going on a one-way trip to another planet in another galaxy, to unknown dangers and threats, and to possible death. If we never returned at least we would have each other – the big, international family that came to Atlantis.

--

It took many months of living and working with John for me to finally call him by his first name. At first, to me he'd been nothing more than a military commander, and since I didn't have much respect for the military other than the fact that they would save my ass once in a while, I didn't call him a friend either. What finally brought me to my senses and the reality that was now our lives was when the Genii infiltrated Atlantis during the storm, taking Dr. Weir and myself hostage as John prowled the remainder of the city, eliminating most of the threat. I kicked myself over how naive I'd been about the guy who'd thought of himself as my friend ever since I'd been an idiot and put that personal shield on.

Now, when I reflect on his life (not mine), he'd shown his true friendship to both of us, more to Elizabeth than myself, when he took the risk and shot Kolya before he could drag our leader through the gate. I remember glancing at the two when I pestered Carson about the scratch on my arm. She was shaken by the trauma, and then John had held her close. I tried to look away, but I knew I couldn't. At that moment they sort of bonded, which sounds strange coming from me, the pessimistic, arrogant know-it-all, and owner of the smartest brain in three galaxies.

I knew I had no business interfering in their relationship that steadily got stronger, but I knew that I had horrible timing and more than once I walked in on them. I never saw them kiss, no, but just moments when Elizabeth needed to be stronger, and she could only get it by being with him. Mushy, I know, but sixty years later it all makes sense. I was his best man, remember? I know I do.

The only thing that was worse than losing Carson was almost losing Elizabeth. I knew what my job was when my leader ran out of the Jumper, and I didn't want to do it. I heard pain and agony in John's voice when he told me to hit that kill switch, and I heard the relief and the worry in his voice when it didn't work. Thank god it didn't. When we had to leave her on Asuras my heart was pounding with a fury that felt like it wanted to escape, but it probably didn't compare to the way John's was pounding, desperately trying to flee the confines of his chest to be with Elizabeth. He didn't need to say anything for me to know that it was the hardest thing he did. He confessed it to me, too, after we got back to Atlantis and landed her.

He told me then that he'd seen her pain when she looked at him, the realization and her love. And then I had been his friend, his support and I prodded him into manning up to save her. I knew that he loved her; I even used it against him to make him see what I had in our first year. I was terrified of standing up to him, the colonel who didn't have any trouble with intimidating people. I was proud that I made him see the truth, but I was worried that he'd gallivant off in search of her.

But when I watched him hold her against him as we flew home, I knew there was more underneath than what he was showing. He was my friend, and I'd been such for him. They were my family.

Antarctica was the beginning of our journey, but for John it was more than that. Many people who personally know me would say that I'm not being myself. But when John sat in the chair, his life began.


	2. New Families, Old Friends

**The Unauthorized Biography of Jonathan Sheppard by AndromedaMarine**

_Chapter Two: New Families, Old Friends_

The first couple of years on Atlantis were the most hectic. Settling in and just learning about a life-sucking alien species whose entire race was woken up by our arrival was a pretty bad omen. Personally I blame Colonel Marshall Sumner for not listening to the Athosians, who warned him about going into the abandoned city on Athos in the first place. In no way do I place blame on John. It wasn't his fault he carried the gene, and how was he to know that Teyla's necklace was the little devil anyway? But the awakening of the Wraith put us to the test. We had to prove our worth, and fight for our lives as well as for the lives of those who lived on Earth in ignorant bliss. Had they gained entrance to Atlantis this story would not have been told. They did not know that their lives were in a worse danger, one that far outweighed the Goa'uld, Replicators and the Ori combined.

It took a total of seven years to completely annihilate Michael and his Wraith hybrids. Another two went by before the renegade Wraith who'd had enough of fighting showed up on our doorstep asking for a peace treaty. Elizabeth dealt with them cautiously, having learned from Todd. Jennifer Keller revised Carson's retrovirus in an extraordinary way – it completely cured them of the Iratus DNA, and it didn't require continuous treatments for them to lead normal lives. John was never fully open to the idea, but only two of them were allowed to remain on Atlantis: one we called Jim, and the one who had spared John's life after imprisonment by Kolya, and his name became Dorian. They became a valuable ally when the Replicators made a massive comeback and the rest of the renegade wanted our help defeating them.

We wondered how many enemies we would have to defeat before we could live on Atlantis in peace, as a city. More than once it seemed as though John had died in enemy hands – but every single time he returned, against all odds, home, to Elizabeth and his son and daughter.

I was the godfather to Nara and Lincoln, and I thank whatever god that is out there for not having me fulfill that role.

John once confided in me how he felt during his six months with the Ancients. Six months he'd been ripped away from Elizabeth and the one place he had called home in over ten years. Eventually he accepted the loss, but never ceased to think of it. When he told it to me his eyes had been filled with desperation and anger. He'd truly believed we'd given up on him – all of us including Elizabeth. After he returned he didn't speak to her for a week. He'd been wallowing in self-pity, and refused to even look at her. During that time Elizabeth asked me what was going on with him. I couldn't refuse telling her – John had almost died twice while in that time-dilation field. While only mere hours went by for us, six months had been taken away from him, six months he could never get back.

When he finally did look her in the eye it had been after hours of my prodding him into it. I knew that they needed closure – he needed to accept that we had done everything in our power to save him. On the journey back to the portal when we rescued him he only looked at her once. But I saw his eyes, and he'd been telling her everything that he pent up. His beard only accentuated the glare, but it was the first thing to go when we returned. He would have scars from the attacks – some that would stay as strong tomorrow as they were when he received them. Some would fade with time, and by the time of his death only the meaningful ones remained.

Right now, at this exact moment, the people of Earth know about the Stargate Program. Jim and Dorian make regular trips to Earth for conferences, informing the population of Earth about life in another galaxy and how the Iratus DNA ruled their lives.

Carson Beckett's clone never returned to Atlantis. John and myself often visited him during routine vacations, and I was so relieved that Carson's mother didn't die of shock when she saw her not-dead son walk through the front door. Carson's funeral was the hardest thing I did until John's death – but I can't put one above the other. Both were and are my friends, and for some reason I know that I'll see them again someday. John ascended – I know because I witnessed it. Carson had a full life, albeit it was ruled by constant treatments for his duplicate organs.

I know this is the story of John's life, but it was intertwined with everyone else's. Carson asked me to be his best man when he and his college sweetheart, Casey, wed on Earth. John, Radek, Lorne, Elizabeth and I went to the wedding. Cadman and Evan were engaged, John and Elizabeth were already married, Radek had found someone (although I never understood what she saw in him and his fluffy hair) and I'd proposed to Katie, Teyla settled down with Kanaan on Atlantis, and Keller and Ronon were married. Atlantis was becoming a real city again, by definition of a population that, well, re-populates. A bunch of other – ahem – lesser members were already getting together, yet the first union was between our two leaders.

My kids and John's kids became best of friends, along with Ronon's kids, and Teyla's kids, and Cadman's kids, and Carson's kids, and well, you get the idea. All a family. Woven together more than my astrophysics degrees could imagine. We looked out for each other. We lived under the roof of one city. Under the protection of Atlantis. Jim and Dorian were sort of like uncles to them, even though John was very wary. He didn't fully trust the treatment Jen had given them, and John was worried that one of the two would kill his children and mine. But contrary to John's rational fears neither Jim nor Dorian ever fed again. In the Wraith-ish way, at least.

Nara, John's daughter; and my son, Patrick "Puck", were married when they were twenty-two and twenty-four, respectively. After that John's and my brother bond became stronger, since I became Nara's father-in-law and vice versa with John and Puck. Eventually I became a grandfather when the twins, Emily and Amanda, were born.

John never really retired and I called him "Sheppard" for ten years before first instinct took over and "John" became the norm. After that when I wanted his attention "Sheppard" would get it. I've had way too many head injuries (and others including two broken arms, three broken ribs, a dislocated shoulder, five broken fingers, a concussion which he swears was my fault, a broken tibia and a broken foot, and I have no idea how the foot injury happened) all caused by John while sparring (or hand-to-hand combat, which I always thought was easier) – I swear if he'd hit me once more I'd be permanently brain-damaged, and I know I wouldn't like that (smartest brain and all, but I'm way past the ego part). He was agile. Quick. Intelligent past what he showed. In fact he was a quiet math genius, first shown when he told me exactly how many permutations seven little symbols could make. And then there was his Mensa test that he passed with flying colors, and the only person to ever challenge Radek and me in a game of Prime, Not Prime, which sadly (for Radek and me), he won. He was a devilish man. He made Elizabeth laugh, and that's what mattered to me. Since Antarctica Elizabeth had been sort of like a sister and I just knew something was bound to happen – and look at me now. In another galaxy on the not-so-mythical city of Atlantis, writing a book about life-sucking aliens and a five-star general of the Air Force who was at the forefront of the battle his entire life, all of which is a damn-true story to the letter. He and Elizabeth were meant and made for each other. If somebody who (shockingly) has no idea who I am read this, they'd think I'm talking about crap when I say that their love was pure. Just me writing that sounds like crap. But it is true – dead true.

John and Elizabeth loved the ocean. Every morning I would see them out on the Balcony of Sanctity, holding hands and drinking their first cups of coffee. The sun would rise, much more spectacularly here than on Earth because of the lack of pollution, and shimmer with a brilliant shade of green just before the whole sun appeared. Over the years my work-all-hours of the night attitude caught up with me and I had to establish a routine that didn't leave me exhausted. I'd be there in the control room for the sunrise and the sunset, and at both times the two would be on the balcony, linked by their souls and hands.


	3. The Infinite Universe

**The Unauthorized Biography of Jonathan Sheppard by AndromedaMarine**

_Chapter Three: The Infinite Universe_

The Sheppards were the founders. They were the cornerstone that supported the new colony blossoming on this old, wise metropolis. I loved them both. Katie and the Sheppards were what kept _me_ sane, and sometimes all I needed was a glance to know the city was still standing. We depended on each other for everything, and eventually transports to and from Earth became less frequent. Advancements in hyperspace technology improved, allowing faster travel in between galaxies. Two more Midway stations were built and destroyed, and the current one has been in service for twenty-six years, the largest of the four. Counting the Daedalus and the Apollo, fifteen X-303s are in service, my favorite being the USAF Enterprise. The others are: Cassiopeia, Orion, Gabriel, Shangri-La, Eden, Korrelev II (owned by the Russian government), Voyager VIII, Castiana, Sahal, Renovatio, Camelot, and Avalon. Half defend the Milky Way and half defend Pegasus. Enterprise makes trips to and from Earth once a month.

After the remaining part of the city was explored a database that held the blueprints and plans for Aurora-class battlecruisers and satellites like the one Peter died on were found. We knew that finding the right materials to build them would be difficult, if not impossible without a source-planet, which is exactly what John's and Lorne's teams found. A network of five satellites protects the outer reaches of the solar system and one Aurora is in service, christened Treia. Another is being built – slowly, but it's getting there. The first one was completed with John's and my help, which is probably what made it finish faster. Now that Sheppard's ascended you'd think he'd break the rules like Daniel did and snap his fingers to finish Athosia, the second battlecruiser. But I haven't heard a peep from him, or any news from Morgan le Fay, the ancient who snuffed Adria and was allowed to help the "lesser" mortals fight the bad guys. But then again she was left out of the loop for many things, some of which involving ascended members of the Atlantis Expedition. God knows why she didn't snivel her way into the high-speed pure energy loop full of Ancient whack jobs and hoity toity ascended beings who think they're all that. I suspect they forget we saved their asses from the Ori. Oh, I snicker now.

Morgan had been a good friend and correspondent, but after John ascended I rarely saw her. Maybe once every few months, but that's about it, and her visits were business only. Her kind of business. Sometimes I forget I'm tromping in her turf, her last home. But I've learned things from her.

I already knew that the universe is infinite and that there are an infinite number of infinite universes. But from Morgan I learned that not every universe let John live as long as he did in this one, which would lead me to assume mine is the correct universe to be living in. I've experienced tears in the walls of my "playground," which is what John called it after I accidentally brought a young man by the name of Seeley Hawkins through the McKay-Zelenka Universe Complex (MZUC), and the MZUC later made it to Area 51 after IOA got involved. The only problem was that Seeley couldn't go back, and as far as he was concerned, he didn't want to. And because there was no Seeley in this universe to begin with he stayed, not having to worry about entropic cascade failure. He was also a brilliant genius (like me, but much younger). I was Head of the Science Department until my heart attack ten years ago, when Seeley took over. At first I didn't like it, but John helped me deal, as did Katie and Elizabeth.

But what Morgan taught me got me thinking. How many Rodneys out there would have to go to not one, but two funerals of dear friends? How many Johns lost their Rodneys? How many Johns lost their Elizabeths on Asuras? How many Atlantises didn't rise when we first came, drowning the whole expedition? How many of me lost everyone, or vice versa? I realized I didn't want to know. As amazing and phenomenal as the information and even the process of obtaining it would be, the simple dread of knowing that my friend died somewhere else was too much. And, being the completely reasonable and comprehensive man that I am, I ordered (with my high-end authority) that the MZUC be destroyed. I couldn't risk pulling another person out of his or her home. I couldn't trap them here, where I would be drawn to know what went on in the life I'd never know or possibly would have known had _my_ life taken that direction. Maybe it would be a completely random person, or maybe an alternate John, whose life story would be drastically different in the way that he might have lost Elizabeth on Asuras, and just seeing his counterpart and the woman he lost together, in this universe, would tear him apart. I couldn't let that happen.

I hated seeing him in pain, both physically and emotionally. But for me the emotional pain was harder, because I was his confidant, his obliging friend. When Elizabeth was left on Asuras, I was there. When she almost died off-world, and didn't wake for a week at the most, I was there for him. I learned in those times more than I wanted to, more than was supposed to be revealed between friends. He trusted me, and I would never let anything he told me go. I knew that if I did let anything slip my coffee supply would disappear and then my murder would be slowly plotted and carried out. In short, I was afraid of him.

For sixty years I've known him, and I've never fully understood how the universe works, why his hair never behaved, how Lincoln could possibly look, act and sound exactly like his father, or why the same was true with Nara and her mother. For sixty years I was his best friend, brother, and the guy he always had to save from the bad guys off-world or otherwise. Maybe you've heard the myth of Sisyphus. Sometimes, that was John. Forever trying to push forward, only to be forced back to the beginning. Oftentimes I felt like that murderous Greek fella when I was working on some unfixable thing Kavanaugh broke in the lab. John was Sisyphus in the sense that he kept saving me and Atlantis. It was a never ending process that always ended with him back at the beginning, saving me or any other member of the Atlantis expedition again. And then I'd go right back and get into trouble. I never learned how to stay out of it; just ask Katie and my twins, Gideon and Gabriel.

I loved to throw scientific and mythic babble at John. My most favorite was Schrödinger's cat. In fact he began to use the same metaphor with me, and it was usually when John was stuck off-world alone, fighting for his life from some angry native or a prowling Wraith (which happened more times than the SGC would like to admit). I'd use the analogy when I comforted Elizabeth, but it only had the desired effect a few times. My only praise is that Mr. Schrödinger's cat always happened to be alive, albeit sometimes with serious injury, like the cut throat that Lorne just barely managed to save. Sisyphus was the everyday battle, the thing we always looked out for. But Schrödinger's cat was a whole different story – one that oftentimes even caused doubt in me. But we knew he was strong. I knew he was strong, and if I could do anything I would become the Sisyphus John had been imitating. But I knew the time had come to give up myths and impersonations when John died.

Maybe in this infinite universe I'll stumble across John again, like I stumbled across Carson. Maybe, out there, an answer's just waiting to be found by Seeley or another incredibly brilliant scientist that doesn't go by the name Meredith Rodney McKay. Just maybe the universe _does_ have limits, and one day we'll find them. I'd be contradicting Morgan if I really did believe that, and I'm not ready to face her wrath quite yet. But maybe underneath and past all that dark matter is _the_ answer – the one I've spent my whole life looking for and the one that I'll most likely never figure out: women. I'd be a really bad joker if I just let that one hang, and it was probably – at best – an idiotic thing for me to say in a book, let alone to John (which I've done and he actually laughed). I'm sure that the answer is out there – the answer to every little problem that pokes its beastly little head into my life. One of those beastly problems was the man I called brother. He was a mysterious, and intriguing man that I never got the full answer from. He had his secrets, and I still have mine. But between Elizabeth and John, nothing was hidden. I could tell it in the way they looked at each other, the way they held hands and kissed.

My universe may be the real one – the one I live in and am ever studying. Its walls keep expanding and my playground gets bigger every nanosecond, but I will never really understand it, and that is a big confession for an astrophysicist who prides himself on always being right and having the answer. I'm ninety years old. I'm still going strong, and with Morgan's help I'll live another fifty to seventy years. And then I'll ascend, and gain the vast knowledge that the ancients themselves pride upon. Then I'll have the answer, and all my friends back. My universe will be complete by then. But John's universe was a different matter. His universe grew smaller every day Elizabeth was missing or in the infirmary. His universe, although small, was indefinite, yet infinite. It didn't have the boundaries mine does, or the constraints that Elizabeth placed on the universe Atlantis exists in. His, quite literally, was an abyss, and he always walked on the edge of it. A couple times he's fallen in only to grasp the edge and be pulled up by Elizabeth or myself.

Any way it's looked at, the universe is an entirely infinite, perplexing, mysterious, convoluted, jumbled mess of things that no man alive today can figure out. Personally, I'm leaving it up to the ascended John and his new Ancient friends. Can you hear the smile in my words?


	4. Unstoppable

**The Unauthorized Biography of Jonathan Sheppard by AndromedaMarine**

_Chapter Four: Unstoppable_

John was a fighter. Not just in the sense that he was a fighter _pilot_, but that he just refused to die. I mean, throw him in a cell with a Wraith and said Wraith just happens to have mercy on him and gives him the gift of life instead of taking all of his life. Put him in a time-dilation field with Ancients for six months and twice he almost dies, only to be healed by a ten year old super-being. Let the Genii infiltrate Atlantis and he'll take them out before they take him out. Let him touch a harmless crystal like the Unity, and he manages to toss his doppelganger through a wormhole (with no help from me, I might lie about.) He survived countless explosions in space, escaping in a Jumper. Take the time the Wraith laid siege: John flew a Jumper right into the hive and was beamed out at the last second by Caldwell (Hermiod, actually). He's defied so many rumours about his death by coming home (much to Elizabeth's and my relief).

So now that we've established that Jonathan Sheppard is a fighter, among other...things, I'd think it's safe to assume that he's also an unstoppable force. Something like when the unstoppable force meets the immovable object metaphor. Except John moved the immovable object. And since that's the case then the metaphor wouldn't really apply, although the immovable object in fact was immovable. John was unstoppable. If I were simply talking to myself I'd say I'm rambling and I'd force myself to quit, but my ninety-year-old brain is telling me to keep going, and so is my heart. If you're to understand this quite complex metaphor then I'd better explain what the immovable object was.

Until about twenty six years ago, the IOA was a barricade against anything and everything that needed to be done. No new forces were sent here to Atlantis; no supplies were sanctioned for transport. We were literally abandoned because of a new director in the advisory. His name was Cain Cayote. Before I go any further and tell everyone what he did to make the IOA immovable, I should say that he eventually died at the hands of my favorite ex-Wraith, Dorian. Whether he discharged Ronon's weapon by accident or not I really don't know or care – the fact is he got rid of Cain so Atlantis could have a future. Fortunately for Dorian the rest of the IOA never put forth an investigation (which is why we kept Dorian on Atlantis and why we finally became connected with the SGC again).

Cain Cayote was a vicious beast (sort of like what his last name resembled) and whenever Elizabeth put in orders to Earth the IOA would intercept it and refuse it. No one really understood why he did what he did; only that he did it out of spite for Elizabeth (who apparently was like an ex-girlfriend to him, although he never once dated or met her before). Cayote was a coyote. Even with his "high-end" authority he never set foot on Atlantis, let alone through the gate or on the Enterprise. He liked the lonely little planet way out in the boonies of the Milky Way, and didn't want to go galaxy-hopping through Midway or hyperspace. Earth was his haven, as ironic as it sounded to us Lanteans.

Cameron Mitchell didn't like being that cut off from happenings in Pegasus, and soon he was defying IOA as well. When he got his chance as IOA was not present under Cheyenne Mountain, he summoned Elizabeth and John to the SGC, and John's unstoppable force rammed the immovable object so far into space that maybe aliens from Star Trek can see it go whizzing by. Bad analogy, I know, but give me a break – Roddenberry is spectacular. And I'm not saying that to agree with Coombs.

And then there was the slightly small fairytale that whisked its way around Atlantis that John's nickname was Juggernaut, but that was entirely because of his unstoppable force that crushed IOA. Juggernaut or not (pun intended) the man was a phenomenal fighter and fighter pilot. Quite frankly, I've never met anyone who could fly a Jumper better than he (Morgan le Fay excluded, of course, because she's a genuine Ancient). I also preferred it when John flew the Jumper because I don't trust Carson at the controls. Lorne was alright, but he sort of lost the hang of it when he got older. John is the main topic of this book, I know, but everyone else was integrally involved, nothing less.

Oftentimes I think of how I've outlived him and everyone from the original expedition, save Teyla and (at the time) a young marine by the name of Hailey, who was trained by Jack O'Neill at one point. She actually became military commander after Sam had her run, and when Lorne became tired of the position. And I know this is all on the topic (well, almost all of it) of being unstoppable, and most everyone was. Ronon was unstoppable, and it was proven after being a Runner for seven years. Teyla was unstoppable because she was determined to complete everything, keep every promise she could, and the like. Evan was unstoppable because he remained by our side. Elizabeth was unstoppable because she had the strength, determination, power, and authority to protect her family and her city at all costs, even when one of the prices was the sacrifice of herself at one point. Radek was unstoppable because he just kept going; just kept improving his work, as was seen with the MZUC. Seeley is still unstoppable, even as he's passing into his late sixties and supports a large family. I'm unstoppable in the sense that my life will continue until its absolute end, when everything I've aspired to learn will plop itself into my mushy grey mass up there, and even when that is over I'll be an unstoppable ascended being, up there with John and Elizabeth and Evan, with Ronon and Cadman, Keller, Carson, and maybe even Peter. I've already explained why John was an unstoppable force, the man who saved Atlantis from the horrors of the IOA and of Cain Cayote. By that time we all missed Woolsey, and even Gupperton. When that happened we surprised ourselves.

Atlantis was unstoppable. We've grown, and are still growing. Somewhere on the massive metropolis is another Sisyphus; another Schrödinger's cat. Hopefully there's not another Kavanaugh, because if there was then I'd have to go and feed him to another Wraith. Bad joke, I know, but I really did hate him. Atlantis is unstoppable. With the Wraith gone no other alien race dares take us on, not with three full-power ZPMs and another six in store. Not when she's full of Ancient gene-carriers, some of whom are stronger than John was because of the mixture of so much in one place. And then Keller improved the ATA gene therapy, inducing an eighty percent acceptance rate. We still have our scuffles off world (although Nara won't let me go on missions anymore) with angry natives (none of which I can be blamed for, because of said inability to go on missions) or stray wild animals.

We need strength; a unity (not the crystal) that can be depended upon. Our fight is Earth's fight, even though we stand on the forefront of battle, metaphorically speaking, of course. For the longest time the Wraith laid siege to us, and for the longest time we could but take hit after hit. Every day new things are discovered about the city, some with the help of Morgan le Fay, but not much. Our own curiosity has suited us, and we continue to reverse engineer many things the Ancients created, including the personal shields, of which many are now masters. This is not just a history of John Sheppard; it's a history of our time on Atlantis. John was and still is an integral part of the society that lives here; he will never really leave.

United we stand; divided we fall. The cliché is more than just for the United States of America. It's for Atlantis and Pegasus as well. For Earth. For the innumerable inhabited planets beyond the reaches of both galaxies, into the deep unknown of the space I will one day learn about. For the people of Athos, and Sateda. For Larrin, and her kin. Unstoppable we stand united. Divided we fall, a crushed and obliterated force of good.

John is unstoppable. And so am I.


	5. Chariot

**The Unauthorized Biography of Jonathan Sheppard by AndromedaMarine**

**Author's Note: Spoilers for 4x20, The Last Man.**

_Chapter Five: Chariot_

_Swing low, sweet Chariot, coming now to carry me home... _This song was played with the bagpipes and sung by Nara and Lincoln Sheppard at John's memorial service. He was borne to heaven on the wings of angels, but I'm not as religious as one might think. He's simply on a higher plane, one that I almost reached so many years ago. Fifty seven, to be exact. I know that since I could do it then, I will do it when my time comes. Then wasn't the time, and although much of _my_ life was scientific crap and formulas, the rest was spent in unorthodox meditation or contemplation on supernatural things.

Even saying 'supernatural' with my life in question sounds a little dumb. Iratus was anything but natural, and supernatural could have been a good word for it; unnatural is what Evan and John used. Weird was _our_ word. I know that after Oma Desala's help with Daniel she was never allowed to help people ascend again, so Morgan took that role for this galaxy. She guided all those who aspired for Ascension to it, John among them. For some Morgan's help was like the proverbial chariot that carried Elijah (or was it Elisha? See? Not very religious.) to heaven. Morgan will be my help; my chariot. She was John's and Elizabeth's chariot.

My children and John's children carry on the legacy of Earth; they plough through sometimes horrific events, but even now they're becoming old enough to pass their positions on to their children. Five active generations on Atlantis care for her. Oftentimes I wonder how this could go on; when will our luck come to an end? I received that answer near ten years ago, when I became wise beyond my years (just kidding). The beginning of that answer started fifty-five years ago. John had been sent forty-eight thousand years into the future by means of a wormhole. It skewered our universe into an alternate timeline, one in which the city fell to the Wraith and they eventually destroyed Earth. A hologram of myself (and all this is according to John, because I wasn't actually there) helped him get back in time to save Teyla, which was the whole reason the skewer happened anyway. I realized, when he returned and told me everything, that Atlantis _would_ survive, and now that he was here, in his proper place, the people would as well. Perhaps it would last even longer than the forty eight thousand years simply because of our ability to move the city; our possession of more than enough ZedPMs. We have the ability, power, and determination to _survive_. John _survived_. We were the true scholars, the only ones who really survived the fight of the universe. Undoubtedly more threats will come to pass; ones that I will not live to see. Perhaps centuries from now, perhaps millennia – will pass before our determination and strength are tested to complete want of failure. But _I _have trust – trust in my family and John's – trust that can outlast and _will_ outlast the trivial things in our lives that, in relativity to eternity, last only for a blink of an eye. I have trust past the material. Past the walls of Atlantis, the walls I've called home for over sixty years. Walls that are meant to protect her family. Past those walls is a trust that goes beyond even Morgan. John had this trust too. In addition to his family his _trust_ was his chariot. The essential belief that _allowed_ him enlightenment.

That was _his_ moment. That was _his_ time to act and save our universe – our infinite universe. His moment ended when he drew his last breath, because his moment was the entire span of his lifetime. He didn't need a specific moment or memento that was _assigned_ to his being; he had the world. And yet he had _more_ than the world. He had Elizabeth, Nara, and Lincoln. He had Atlantis. His chariot was the family he protected and saved over and over again. His chariot was Morgan and his trust.

He had known I was to outlive him in the end. I looked out for his children, grandchildren, and even now, his great-grandchildren. One day they will have their own family to take care of, a family that will be _their_ chariot; and they will join the Ancestors and the ones who preceded them into eternal life.

John lived his life to the fullest. I've seen countless generations pass through this city. Lincoln and Halajier (Daniel and Vala Jackson's daughter) married. I became adoptive grandfather along with John to take the place Daniel left void for his third and final rise to the highest plane. _Their_ chance; _their_ moment. _Their_ turn to leave a mark (well, in my case, a long, jagged scratch) in Pegasus; on Earth, and eventually, in the universe.

The song at his funeral was past appropriate. It was simply _right_. As vast as this infinite universe is I _know_ that he still inhabits the City. His chariot took him_ home_. The home that was represented by two golden rings and by the foundation he laid on the City. _He is home._

I still feel his presence when I walk around the corners. I know he's there, in some shape, form, or scientific term nobody'd understand. In essence. In spirit, although that wouldn't exactly pertain to his current state of existence, seeing as he's just pure energy floating around. He watches those who run with smiles on their faces (and I'm talking about the kids here, not Radek or Torren) through the city. He unconsciously guides those in need of it. He provides the security those alone simply need. Physically, he is not here and perhaps never will be again. Emotionally, he can affect the city's systems and sentience. Spiritually, he hovers over Atlantis like a protective blanket, triggering alarms when we can't see what he does, and warning us of impending attack when the armada is too far from our deep space probes.

Like the Ancient who grew attached to Sam (Orlin, or was it Orlo? I can never remember) he even put himself in the way of danger by shielding the Enterprise from an ambush, and Morgan became the bearer of news that John was now an injured Ascended being. (He's still as reckless and has the I-gotta-save-the-world-or-else attitude that will never disappear). I'd have loved to see Elizabeth's ascended expression when she knew John was barreling off to save my supply ship.

But I seriously digress.

Even after his "death" he was our keeper; our guardian. I _know_ he's there (I thoughtfully tap my forehead) keeping Atlantis safe.

Perhaps _he_ will be the chariot of future generations.


	6. Of Our Fathers

**The Unauthorized Biography of Jonathan Sheppard by AndromedaMarine**

_Chapter Six: Of Our Fathers_

I realize now that I only mentioned the original military leader only once. Perhaps my reasoning was he wasn't really a leader at all; I mean he only went on one mission through the gate and then whoosh! Dang dart sucked Colonel Marshal Sumner and a few others up into the belly. Maybe it's my insatiable urge to get everything I possibly can onto the paper, but one thing I'd never given much thought to was the Colonel's family. Keep in mind that I'm not wavering on the subject of John quite yet; remember that this is really a biography of Atlantis.

Question: does everyone have a father? Answer: yes. That may have seemed gratuitous (or redundant; you pick which you like better), but I have a point. You're probably thinking _Please! Just get on with it!_ Now I have a task for you. Think of the United States military on Earth. Think of every man and woman who is serving right now in a war someplace. Think of everyone who's died in battle – they who gave up their lives for the survival of their families. Think of your own father, brother, son or uncle. What would you do if he died in war? If your home was invaded during the night and they never woke to the morning? Those are the questions I ask myself about Colonel Sumner. Maybe he'd thought about his family in those last moments of his life – but I hadn't been there to see them; that was John. It took him almost ten years to finally tell me what happened on that first rescue operation.

Oftentimes people put on that mask to hide their true feelings or what's really going on in their lives. The spurious faces fool everyone but those they're closest to. John only had about three who could see through his mask. Elizabeth, Teyla, and I could all tell when he was hiding something behind the mask. He would avoid eye contact and make excuses to evade everyone he didn't want to have contact with. Every conversation was curtailed. It took me about an hour to hack into his file (for which he later made me spar with Ronon and Evan in tandem) and learn that the day he sported the mask was the anniversary of his father's death. That brings me back to the questions and thought processes that plagued my mind for what seemed like years.

We are all of our fathers. Every bit of us down to the individual cells tells us where we came from. I'm sure Carson had a fancy-schmancy gizmo, thingamajig, doohicky or whatchamacallit that could tell us exactly what region of Europe my great-to-the-nth-power grandfather was from. But that's not what mattered – what mattered was what made him who he was (ooh, tongue-twister). John was a Sheppard (not in the literal sense, but I hope you get my rather off-topic drift). Every bit of him was Sheppard. I guess if you connected everything with invisible lines that would mean that everyone John is blood-related to (not including descendents) is also ascended. I know he's probably staring at me with wide-open eyes and about to ask that inevitable question: "Rodney, what on _earth_ are you talking about?" My initial reply would be along the lines that the phrase 'what on earth' doesn't really apply any more, considering we're in another galaxy.

If John had to use one word to describe me he'd say I'm an arrogant, egotistical, know-it-all scientist who doesn't seem to know when to shut up. My point being that he'd have to use thirteen words to say what he wanted. My word for me is _assiduous_. It means that I'm diligent and persistent. And God knows I am. I mean, look at me! I'm writing a god-damn biography at ninety years old and it's not even for me! My digression is unnecessary, I assure you, but bear with me.

John's personality makes me wonder what his father was like. Was he involved in John's early childhood? Did he encourage John to apply to the Air Force? Did he approve of his son's deployment into Afghanistan, or his reassignment to Antarctica? Were John's parents married? Did John have siblings? Looking back, I wish I'd asked these questions of my father. I wonder if John asked John Sheppard Sr. And that's the key: wonder. Imagination. Interrogation of the deepest corners of our minds. How long have we been alive; we as a species? What has it been...sixty-five, one hundred million years? How long until the end of the universe? Who will finally misuse technology and collapse the walls of my playground? Our curiosity comes from our fathers. It comes from the first human to ask a question (Eve, if you want to get religious). That simple change in the voice; the tacking of a squiggly line on top of the period. Curiosity hasn't killed my hedgehog yet, and I witnessed the day when John proved that his hedgehog was alive till the end. It can be our destruction, our end. But without it we would be without existence. Given to us by our fathers, it is an inalienable right that will stay with us until it spells our doom. Oh, the melodrama.

John did answer the questions when I asked him. After I did, I encouraged my children to ask me the same ones, and John did so with his kids as well. It proved that the wonder, imagination, curiosity – is of our fathers. That is what we are. We are humans, the dominant species in the Milky Way and Pegasus. Our curiosity has spelled tragedy, as was seen with Colonel Marshal Sumner, but it was our link to the future. It brought us from Earth to Pegasus; from the Messianic age to the present. From the bow and arrow to energy pulse guns. From the spear to the staff-weapon. From the slingshot to the zatnicatel.

We are of our fathers.


End file.
